+ 1

Picture This....
You got tickets to a slamming concert! An artist you love, who do you take?
A new restaurant opened and you are dying to try it, who do you go with?
You get an invitation to a wedding, it says _____________ <---your name here  +1...who gets the honor?

How can a girl have so many options, but NO options at all? Does that even make sense?  Of course it doesn't. It's only me and I make stuff up in my head.  

As a young  educated, professional, beautiful African American woman living in #Philly, I have lots of options when it comes to dates-guys I know, guys I went to school with, guys I met along lifes trails, guys I am following/friends with on social media networks (and those that follow me :-)) .BUT sometimes when I really examine the "list" for a social event, work event etc, I realize I don't have such a plethera of options. I do not want to feel forced to take someone I'd rather not take, for the sake of saying I have a date when the truth is that something about them irks me or turns me off.  Sometimes I wish I could take this persons face and put it on this persons body; take this persons brain and place it in this persons head; take this persons sense of humor and put it on another body; stretch this person out, make him a little taller...take his manerisms give them to him...you get my drift...right? 

 

THEN half of these busters when I think about it maybe I dont REALLY know. The dating phase we see in movies, and shows..or used to see for that matter, doesnt seem to be happening. With the invention of the internet-social media networks, skype, tango and the likes have made dating in 2012 very challenging. Deja Vu'! I feel like I have typed that before...you often know too much or too little about a person before a in person meeting. We have no social skills The average "get to know" period shrinks, because people become to familiar with each other too fast.  No courting needed.  Hi, my twitter name is ____, meet my "representative"...I say representative because you never truly meet the REAL person behind that avi until its too late. By then you have invited a person into your life, you normally wouldnt have given a second  thought. You are suckered in, you took him somewhere ( to an event ) he should not have been invited to, was  introduced to your "peeps" and now you have a person listed in your phone as "Do Not Answer"

*SIGH*

#mylife

Ladies...Ease Up..

Is it okay for YOUR man to go to the strip club...I say yes, sure it is, but then again he isn't my man. He is yours.

It is okay for my man to go to the strip club? Hell yeah!

You probably thought I was going to say no.  No way!  If that is what he enjoys, then let him go to the damn strip club with the boys.  He doesnt stop you from going to your book club meetings, the hair salon, and other places us women like to "escape" to or frequent on a regular basis.  Give him his space. Let him go. Let him go there, so when he gets home, he knows how to appreciate what he has at home. 

For most men, its a place to view some eye candy, let his "hair down" and kick it with his boys.  Now if he has a serious porn addition that's something else, and something I don't intend to address in this here forum.  But I have been to the strip club enough times with guys, now that I have gotten older, to realize that it is all in fun and that the women are mere "backdrops" of the venue that are frequenting. Don't feel pressured to do anything he said he saw, or things you think he saw, SOME of that stuff is strictly for entertainment purposes and you need to be properly trained to do it! LOL! I aint lyin'!

What I really think is, heck you should go with him! You might learn a few new tricks to try at home AND you wont have to pay for your drinks while you are there. Remember to do what you feel is comfortable to spice up your sex life.  Don't feel pressured, to be a "stripper" at home but dont be a prude either.  That wont work.

There is a balance to everything. Trust me.

Now what I dont think we need are herds of women flocking to the strip clubs without men.  Its not our gathering place, although we are welcome. (Some places wont let you in after a certain time without a guy) Let the boys have something to themselves unless you are invited.  You go in there half naked and dancing -taking attention from the people who get paid to do what you are often "imitating".  You dont tip the ladies.  That's not fair to them.  From what I was told they pay to be able to dance in those establishments.  So ladies don't go if you're not invited and don't be a nuisance.

Suffering In Silence

You ever cry and not know you are crying? No? Just me..okay...

Well that was me this morning.  I pulled into the McDonalds drive thru near the job, looked in the mirror to see how bad my hair looked and surprisingly saw a wet face.  I wasnt sweating. I didn't forget to dry my face after I washed it.  I didn't get caught in the rain. after a moment, I knew what it was...and where the tears came from.  See when the tears start flowing and you cant feel them, its usually when you are at your wits end.  It means there is nothing to say. You are waving your white flag, letting God, your best friend, a police officer, a neighbor-somebody - know you need help.

See, I went to sleep angry last night and I guess I should not have been surprised when I woke up somewhat later than normal and my day began to go haywire bubbling over with the anger and frustration that has been looming in my head for weeks.  In case you didnt know I currently, care for someone with severe mental health and intellectual diasabilites. Double wammy-right? Shoot me now.

It seemed somewhat manageable before but now that the baby is here, I swearforgawd, things have gotten CRAZIER (for a lack of words) in my home. Your home is supposed to be your personal space, your safe haven, it's yours-right.  But lately I don't want to go home. I don't want to be there. I don't want to do anything to it. I don't want to clean, buy anything, paint anything, or dust anything. Nothing. I want it and everything and everyone in it to disappear.  My interactions and conversations with my sister  have turned into fights. Simple questions and requests have turned into shouting matches. Simple normal dialogues have turned into arguments. I have said things I am not particularly proud of. I mean I have to argue with her about taking a shower. Really? The arguments have gotten physical. Today I almost ran her head through the wall.  My house and furniture look like a herd of cows ran through it and frankly I am worn out. I am tired of fixing things and fighting. It's someone ELSE'S turn.  And yes I have heard the proverb "to much is given..much is required", but some day's-forgive me Lord-I say take back some of these blessings, because its not worth the struggle. This doesn't seem even. Lord you are not playing fair with me.

And then there are days I only want to be home. To hide from the world so I don't have to answer questions.

Today's blog is because I am feeling discouraged and need to vent. Feeling like I am doing this all alone. Feeling like I am going to have to live the rest of my life, like a prisoner-for a crime I didn't commit. And no one understands.  No one gets it.  You see, they have all of these support programs for people with mental illness and/or intellectual disabilities, but yet they do not provide any real services to folks because there is no funding.  In addition adults, can refuse services, so we have all these people who need counseling, medication, attention- walking the streets -getting worse.  My sister thinks she doesnt need medication or counseling.  She is fine. She had a baby. She is a mom. Her common phrase is "you aint my payee, cause I don't need one". Oh okay. So because of this claus she is free to be who she is. Nasty, mean, ungrateful, lost and dependent on someone else. me. You see my sister didnt ask to be this way. She was born this way.  She was born to a drug-addicted woman who thought bringing another child in this world addicted to drugs and possible chemical imbalances was the thing to do.  Go figure, no one talked her out of it..I know for a fact my mother was pro-choice, so what the hell happened-other than the obvious.

So today at work I continue to look for solutions to end my imprisonment. Wine doesn't seem to be the answer and its getting kind of expensive.  I don't want to turn into a wino (remember: alcoholics go to meetings, drunks go to parties) I'm looking for residential programs (for her), that you need a state funded CONSOLIDATED waiver for.  A waiver that has a waiting list of thousands of names.  Those names will undoubtedly remain on the list for the next several years, because we never have enough money and currently we have a governor and elected officials who don't see the value in mental health and intellectual disability support services. If we had more elected officials and people who cared about fully funding and making resources accessible such as affordable health care coverage, reproductive health care services, kinship care support, basic education, special education, and substance abuse prevention programs-just to name a few would have prevented me from crying in the McDonald's parking lot this morning.  But since this doesn't appear to be a reality in Pennsylvania any time soon, I continue to suffer in silence.

Raising #Peanut

I tried to deny it. 
I tried to avoid it. 
I tried to laugh it off. 
I even cried about it a couple of times-okay I'm lying-maybe a dozen.
I even tried to do it from a distance. 

It has taken me a minute to realize it....but no matter how I have masked it, how I have hid it, how I have avoided it.  Yesterday I had to face it.  

I am a mom. A umi. A ma, mama, matriarch, matron, mommy, mum, mumsy.  A parent.  A guardian. A single mom.  A sole provider for someone else. And not just anyone else. A baby. Someone who can not speak for themselves, can’t walk, can’t do any of things-yet-that we adults voluntarily do. 

I think the reason I was clearly in denial or in the clouds, playing Aunt T T, for the past year, is because I didn’t physically give birth to her.  You see #peanut is my niece.   She is my sisters child.  I didn’t have unprotected sex or purposely baby making sex to give birth to this bundle of joy.  I hadn't met Mr Right or Mr. He'll Do.  In fact she by way of her mother was literally dropped in my lap.   Like a bomb.  One day my sister says she is pregnan and with all her mental and emotional challenges decides on HER own she doesn’t want abortion and doesn’t want to put the baby up for adoption.  That SHE in fact is going to take care of this child, when in fact SHE can not take care of herself. 

So 10 months later, I parented from afar, but as many of my friends know and have seen, I really wasn’t that far.  In fact if it wasn’t for them I probably wouldn’t have been able to make it this far as a single mom.  Ha! Imagine telling a nice gentleman that you have a baby.  Not a kid.  A whole baby.  Immediately with eyes of judgment and a tone only Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas could appreciate, comes the “you said she is 1 years old?”  Immediately I begin to feel like  a harlet, a jezebel… I mean who has a 1 year old and already is on the dating scene…car seat and all?!?!?!? ME. Phillysugamamma.  The nerve of me, right?  I then begin to explain the situation.  “You see, my sister…” Then HIS tone changes, the eyebrows even out, he wants to go on a date…okay. Solid.

*SIGH*

How much longer?   Forever.  What made me realize this, you ask?   Well I can tell you when it didnt happen.  It didnt happen when she was waking the entire house up in the middle of the night for a bottle. It didnt happen at her first birthday party.  It didnt happen when I was shopping in Target in stilettos for diapers. It didnt happen the day, I signed the custody papers. Sometimes God speaks to us in the strangest of ways. 

Yesterday was a normal day.  I woke up, got dressed, got #Peanut dressed and ready for daycare.  We got in the car.  I talked to her.  Told her to be good.  Told her to play nicely.  Told her that I would see her later on. I got out of the car, and carried her to the door.   The staff greeted us with their normal cheer and #Peanut began to wale.  She cried and wouldn’t let me go.  I told her she had to go to daycare and that I would see her later.  She cried some more.  The staff person took her inside.  I sat in my car. Sad.  I couldn’t figure out what had just transpired and why I , Aunt T T was sad.  why?

After work, I did my normal weekly routine.  I hopped in the car and speed to the hairdresser for glam and girl talk.  Found a fabulous parking spot and was on time.  I walked inside, chatted with the girls, got a “spot” and then went to get my hair washed.   As I sat at the wash bowl in the hairdresser preparing to be “molded”, my phone began to ring.  The number that flashed was from the day care .  I immediately panicked.  What had happened?  My OTHER sister who was supposed to pick her up from day care didn’t.  No one had picked her up. #Peanut was there.  All alone. Waiting for someone to arrive.

I ran out of the salon with a plastic cap and everything! I could hear my salon buddies and my stylist screaming “slow down”, “be careful” and asking “what the hell happened?”.  I had to go. I had to go immediately, plastic cap and all.  Mr. Right wasnt gonna be out there today anyway and if he was, I pray he likes plastic!  (all kinds of plastic- I digress)  #Peanut needed me.  She was depending on ME to pick her up.  Nobody else had.  I couldn’t let her down.

And that’s when it hit me.  I was I am a mom.  I mean what kind of people, go speeding down Haverford Avenue with a plastic cap on their heads in West Philly? What kind of people ignore the Mary Kay lady trying to give them catalogs on the corner?  What kind of people turn  right on red lights when the sign says not to? What kind of people bang on the day care door with plastic caps on, ferociously and apologetically saying “I can’t believe shit”.  What kind of people are at ease and began smiling when they see a smiling #Peanut in the arms of the daycare worker waiting to be whisked away to safety.

Moms.  Those kind of people.  They make the world go round.  Their world revolves around #Peanuts

I am a mom.

The End...

It’s been a minute since I blogged, primarily because of the baby, the new job and of course, the ever challenge and fear of me getting too personal with my situations. Nevertheless, back by popular demand, as I introduce to some and reintroduce to othersà ME. 

As I approach another birthday, I find the need to purge emotionally, mentally and spiritually and put closure on some things in my life.  I probably need to purge physically, but that would be a clear sign of anorexia and you know Black girls are not known for that….anyway- As they say, out with the old and in with the new.  There are some things that I just need to "throw the towel in" on–primarily relationships-and start a new journey.  In actuality I am very upset with myself, in all honestly it shouldn't take 365 days for me (or you) to realize something isn’t working or someone isn’t working in my (your) best interest, but as women what do we do....we drag our feet, we make excuses, we know that “moving on” is so hard to do and we say things like “moving on isn’t really in our nature”. We are emotional, we are sensitive and we are expected to bear the burden and do it all for everybody.  I know you are like what is Phillysugamamma talking about.  I’m talking about anything in general that is not working in your life, specifically today; I am talking about the current dating situation many of my friends are in.

Well ladies (and gentlemen) its 2012, and our mothers, grandmothers, aunts and sisters are dying from stress, heart disease, cholesterol, broken hearts and every health disparity that is indicative of not putting our own needs first.  We have to stop making excuses, and do what is best for us.  Remove people from our lives that do not deserve to be in the front row-or in the audience for that matter.    It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you get rid of the dead weight in your life.  Sometimes we block our own blessings.
My new motto: 
If it makes me sad, it’s gone
If it makes me mad, I’m gone.

Every person knows their breaking point but why should we wait until then...maybe you didn’t get the promotion you deserved, maybe he didn’t come home, maybe he said he can’t leave her yet…Well what are YOU going to do about it?  Sit around and wait for more disappointment?  Most often we see the dead end before we get to the end of the road.  When we see it coming, we need to begin to rethink the direction we are going in and re-channel our energy.  Turn around, forge another path, make our own way.

Whatever the breaking point is for you, know when to throw the towel in before it gets thrown on you.  I have 58 days to get rid of the BS, and I’m starting today.  Can’t turn another year older, and not learn from the mistakes of the past year and not do something different. It’s time to start another chapter.